


And They Were Roommates

by Daismika



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Dream Team - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Denial of Feelings, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Explicit Language, Friends With Benefits, Gream - Freeform, Hook-Up, Jealous Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Light Angst, M/M, Name-Calling, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Possessive Behavior, Roommates, Sexual Tension, Swearing, Teasing, dreamnotfound
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:00:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27708719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daismika/pseuds/Daismika
Summary: In which Sapnap purposefully leaves out some details so that he can finally convince his friends to move in with him. Just little details, like the fact that they would have another roommate besides Sapnap. Or the fact that said roommate might just so happen to be their worst enemy.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 86
Kudos: 750





	1. .*･｡ﾟ1.*･｡ﾟ

Clay never really had the patience for packing. The years spent sat in front of a screen had instilled in him that using his hands for anything other than coding and dominating in Minecraft was, simply put, a waste of time. In his mind, his time was better spent sorting through his digital inventory rather than sorting through his laundry.

Truthfully, had packing not been something that he absolutely had to do, Clay would have wandered off back to his computer chair by now. Letting the empty promise of finishing the task later being enough to justify his questionable priorities. But, unfortunately for Clay, packing in preparation for moving didn't provide the option of throwing around empty promises and giving into procrastination.

Fortunately enough, however, since a large majority of Clay's life was digital, his workload for physical items that need packing was relatively small. Looking around his room, he had already gotten about 3 boxes packed and ready -- which was equivalent to just about half of what all needed to be packed. For a short moment, Clay could feel his exhaustion slip away he thought about where the boxes would end up within a few days time. It all felt so surreal; after jokingly talking about the idea for what felt like years, he was finally making the move to live with his best friend. 

A tinge of genuine excitement fluttered through the blonde boys' chest as he remembered the serious tone Sapnap had on as he brought it up in the middle of one of their Discord calls. The small wheeze he let out upon hearing the statement, fully assuming it was one of the many times that they would joke about the concept. The shock after retorting that they would end up killing each other, to which Sapnap quickly shut down -- fully wanting to reiterate the fact that this time was serious. Jokes aside, after realizing Sapnap was serious, Clay genuinely considered it to be a good idea. 

Regardless of the fact that technically their careers and channels were separate, the pair both considered the other to be their business partners of sorts. Even if they weren’t doing videos together, they made it a point to involve one another every step of the way in the growth and development of their empire. Constantly encouraging and helping each other. It was something that Clay had always taken to heart, hence why he was so willing to drop his life in Florida to peruse new horizons. In fact, for days since the initial agreement, the move was all Clay and Sapnap were capable of talking about.

Just about every hour, one of them would call the other to ramble about it all, sometimes to even just discuss small irrelevant progress updates just to be able to hear the other's voice. The return of excitement urged Clay to message Sapnap about his achievements, he could practically taste Texas from how close to finishing packing he was. 

Carefully, he tucked away the last pieces of clothing into the box, taping it shut and placing it on the stack of boxes that were crowding his doorway. Letting out a small sigh of relief, he slid his hands into his hoodie pocket, quickly snatching his phone and unlocking it. Like clockwork, Clay's thumbs flew right to the Discord app. Of course, his DMS with Sapnap was already open. 

Dream Today at 11:36 P.M.  
I’m literally so close to being done packing 

Clay sat waiting, usually Sapnap was quick to reply, especially within the past few days -- he was practically glued to his phone. Clay tried again.

Dream Today at 11:40 P.M.  
I can't believe this is really happening 

Once again Clay was left waiting, he knew there was absolutely no way that the Texan had gone to sleep already. This doubt was confirmed as he went to check Sapnap’s profile, seeing that he was indeed awake and playing Minecraft. Clay couldn’t help but scowl slightly in annoyance, he hated the awkwardness of an unread message. Trying to shake it away, he quickly toggled from their DMS to the private gaining server that they and the rest of their friend group typically used to talk and game together. 

Just as suspected, Sapnap was in fact in the server, his profile picture sticking out like a sore thumb from the voice channel he was in. He wasn’t alone either. Clay couldn’t stop himself as his face twisted in distaste from the name listed just above Sapnap’s. It was none other than George -- of all people. Out of everyone in the server, George had been the only person that Clay would outright refuse to be in a call within cases where it wasn’t absolutely necessary. Especially in the case that it was to be just the three of them, Clay, Sapnap, and George. In general, Clay found the Brit annoying, but the way that George acted around Sapnap was almost an entirely different story. His soft, flirty attitude always felt so plastic and Clay was practically convinced George would exaggerate these features purposefully when the blonde was around. Fully knowing what he was doing would push Clay's buttons. 

Clay hated George, he had made it a point to be as blatantly transparent about it as possible, and it was clear that George felt the same way vice versa. While Clay took the approach of being upfront with no filter, George found amusement in tormenting the blonde. He knew exactly what he had to do to set Clay off. Innocently playing buddy-buddy with him, purposefully keeping Sapnap busy with the intent to keep him away from Clay, constant backhanded compliments. George was the flame that was constantly playing chicken Clay’s fuse, desperate to egg out the explosive reaction he knew Clay was bottling up.  
Decidedly ignoring the two in voice chat, Clay reminded himself that in a few days none of it would even matter. He would finally have something that George could never have or intervene in which was the physical, real-life, Sapnap. No longer would Clay have to wait for the two to separate from voice chat or have to deal with George putting his two cents in while the two were divulged in A-B conversations. Sapnap would always be a simple call away, always there to hang out or talk without the risk of being interrupted. The solidarity of it all was enough to let Clay relax.

Still wanting to get his friend's attention, Clay typed out a quick message in the server chat. 

Dream Today at 11:45 P.M.  
@Sapnap Answer DMS loser 

He was taken back when, within seconds, a new message had appeared under his. 

GeorgeNotFound Today at 11:45 P.M.  
We're playing Minecraft right now :] You should play with us though

While at face value it had seemed like the message was friendly, it let Clay seething. He could feel his fuse sprinkle with red embers as it threatened to fully ignite, but instead of letting it, Clay quickly pressed his phone's power button and tossed the device on his bed. He reminded himself once more, no questions, he was the winner in their rivalry. No matter what, he had the upper hand. His mostly empty room and the stack of boxes, with his whole life, tucked away inside them, were all proof of that. Knowing there was no reason to dwell on the matter, he spent the rest of the night packing until he was finished.  
As he placed the last box with the others, he tiredly switched off his lights and sluggishly walked over to his bed. Collapsing into the mattress, he roughly tugged away at his duvet, scrambling under the covers until he was finally comfortable. Laying on his back, he looked up at his barely visible ceiling. For a split second, starting into the voice, he felt scared. Scared that this would be the part where he wakes up. Like all of a sudden, he would blink the and the dark room around him would suddenly be engulfed in sunlight as a new day greeted him as if it had all been a sick dream. 

He shifted slightly, the feeling of his sheets against his exposed skin somewhat bringing him back down to earth. With his fists loosely balled up, grabbing lightly at his duvet, he let his eyelids fall closed. Say it, he thought, out loud. In hailing sharply, he tried to relax. It’s real, desperate. He just had to hear himself say it — he had to remind himself that it wasn’t a dream.  
His chapped lips parted slowly, “I win.” So quiet, he could almost barely hear it himself. 

The next time Clay opened his eyes, it was morning. For days after that, Clay had been occupied with prepping his car and setting up for his 16-hour drive. From all the work that he had been doing, the time had flown by, and before you know it Clay was standing at the front of his new beginnings. 

The feelings that flooded Clay's chest were indescribable as he watched the front door swing open, a wide-eyed Sapnap flying down the porch stairs to him. Not particularly wanting to be tackled, Clay swiftly scurried out of the way as Sapnap barreled towards him. 

An uncontrollable fit of wheezed laughter erupted from the blond boy as he listened to the Texan screaming behind him, demanding that he stopped running and hugged him.  
“Dream, huG ME”, Sapnap screeched. Clay was used to it in Minecraft, Sapnap chasing him around demanding that his character hug or kiss him but in real life, it was honestly a little scary. Eventually, the exhaustion from laughing and running began to set in and Clay was forced to slow down — giving Sapnap his opportunity to attack. Clay weekly sunk into the warm hug.  
“I can't believe you're finally here.” Sapnap choked out between his gasps as he struggled to catch his breath. 

Clay couldn’t help but smile, “Me neither.” It was happening. Sapnap pulled away finally, taking a good look at Clay. This had been the first time in their many years of being friends that Sapnap had seen Clay in the flesh. He stared up at the blonde blankly for a short while before his face twisted in mock distaste. “You know,” he said smugly, “it says in the Bible it is impossible for there to be two pretty best friends.”

Clays face dropped, so visibly disappointed that Sapnap was really about to use that joke on him. He just knew Sapnap was waiting weeks to finally be able to use that dead meme on him. “I know, it's so sad that you had to find out this way that you are the ugly one.” Clay shot back, not letting himself miss a beat. 

“Me?” Sapnap exclaimed, disbelief plastered on his face. “You’re such a nimrod, don't act like I don't know you face tune the selfies you send to me.” Clay wheezed.

“I told you were attractive because I didn't have the heart to tell you I knew they were edited.” Sapnap added quickly, doing everything in his power to escape defeat. The blonde shook his head, amused “So I face tune our FaceTime calls? And my Snapchat’s?” That was it, there was no rebuttal that Sapnap could possibly think of that could have matched Clay's defense.  
“Nimrod Nick November.” Clay chortled. Sapnap rolled his eyes and turned away from Clay, walking back towards the passenger side of Clay's car “Yeah yeah, have fun bringing your boxes in.” Then, as he pulled the door open, “Your room is upstairs, second door to the right.”

Clay laughed lightly, watching as Sapnap cooed down at Patches, grabbing her gently and holding her tight to his chest. Sapnap wasted no time, taking the cat with him as he hurried back into the house, leaving Clay alone to unpack his car. The blonde simply shook his head in disappointment, popping his trunk and grabbing at his boxes and carried them to the house and up the stairs. A few back and forth trips later and Clay had made decent progress. He was admittedly a little annoyed that Sapnap really had no interest in helping him with the process, he secretly hoped that him bringing nothing but Patches in the house had been a little joke. However, he couldn't really say that he was shocked when Sapnap never returned, not even to offer his help. Clay’s expectations were low from the jump. 

Around his fifth trip, Clay had just finished bringing some of his belongings up to his room and was walking back down the hall. He was scrolling mindlessly through Twitter, as he had made a habit of doing between all of his trips. He was taken by surprise as he felt himself collide with something hard, almost causing his phone to slip through his finger. Confusion flooded him as he scrambled to get a grip on his phone. It was odd, to say the least seeing as, through his various back and fourths, the hallway been completely free of any obstructions. Not only that, but he could hear Sapnap yelling in his office downstairs as he was playing some game with someone on his computer, so it couldn't have been him who the blonde ran into. There was no way that it could have been Sapnap’s cat, whatever he ran into was obviously human. 

Clay ripped his attention away from his phone, already formulating an apology before he was stopped dead in his tracks.

“Watch where you're going much?”, the voice spat up at him -- accent thick on the words. An accent Clay had known all too well. 

An accent that belonged to no other than George.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a twitter for updates: [Here.](https://twitter.com/Daismika)
> 
> And I also have another DNF fic, its a royalty/ enimies to lovers AU: [Here.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27607898/chapters/67632374)
> 
> ALSO also, I've cross-posted these fics on [Wattpad](https://www.wattpad.com/user/Daismika) if anyone is more comfortable on Wattpad/ wants to support the fic there


	2. .*･｡ﾟ2.*･｡ﾟ

The open-air that occupied the endless airport halls were emerged completely in the TV like static of inaudible chattering from the hoards of people that currently occupied the space -- sitting at their terminal waiting to board their planes accompanied the sound of shoes and luggage wheels against the linoleum acting as an offbeat metronome of sorts to the noise. The few people that had their headphones in, silently tucked away behind their laptop screens or tapping away at their phone screens, being the only ones not contributing to the hectic noise around them.

Looking around, it was easy to tell who was flying for business reasons from those flying for personal reasons. The sweatpants and hoodies were just as telling as the creaseless ties, suits, and slacks— bonus points if they were using one of those rolling briefcases. George, being the prior, let his eyes drift down to study the grey sweatpants he had on, boredly pulling at the fabric. Time felt like it as passing at a snail's pace and George's patience was starting to wear thin; it was only a matter of time before the agitation set it. He was ready to do what he did best: sleep, and there was no way for him to be able to do so until he boarded the plane. 

What irked him more was the fact that he had already planned it all out. How he would prepare in his seat, how little he would drink beforehand to prevent the possibility of continuous bathroom breaks, all of it, and at this point George was more than ready to get the ball rolling. Considering the only thing worthy of staying awake for was the takeoff, wanting nothing more than to revel in the moment where he looks out the window and watches the country the entirety of his life was built around disappear underneath him behind the clouds. Watching as the city he was born and raised in camouflaged with the neighboring land to the point of being unrecognizable as its defining scenery melted away into mere blobs spread across the green and grey landscape.

He hoped that if he looked at just at the right moment, thousands of miles in the air, he could almost capture the whole city within his two palms — just with enough detail to slip into his back pocket as a reminder of just how small all of this really was. As if it was a reminder that to move, across the ocean to a new country, was minuscule. And in turn, warrant the fact that there was no remorse in George's heart. He was almost restless to see his past evaporate underneath him and his future engulf him hours later as the abstract landscape mural of America zoomed in as the plane landed. 

Remembering the tears in his mother's eyes as she pulled away from the bear hug she had him locked in at the airport, wearing the same heartbroken expression she wore when George had broken the news to her, he couldn't deny he did feel a small amount of sadness. Admittedly, it was more so out of missing the ability of being but a train ride away for a visit home than the feeling of doubt or regret. In the reality of it, setting aside the pain of separation, his mom was more than supportive of his choice to make the move. She was extremely proud of the life that he had made for himself, him wholeheartedly chasing his dreams was all she really ever wanted for the boy. Reassurance of being but a phone call away somewhat lightened the blow for the both of them. 

Overhead, the speakers of the terminal boomed as they announced that his flight was currently ready for boarding. Slinging his backpack over his shoulder, George sped walked to the gate, his ticket sandwiched between the pages of his passport as he held it tightly in his grasp. Inch by inch as he moved up the line, he felt the steady heartbeat in his chest begin to gain speed — he could practically feel it throbbing in his fingertips. When it was his turn, the attendant wordlessly checked his ticket, hurriedly gesturing him to keep moving as soon as she confirmed his information. 

Down the hall stood another fight attendant, welcoming George politely as he stepped up into the actual plane. With a brief smile in return, George let his eyes scan the letters that lined the bottom of the overhead storage until he found the one assigned to him. Quickly he matched the letter to the seat number and threw himself into the stiff seat, tucking his bookbag carry on under his seat. Reaching into his hoodie pocket, he pulled his phone. Unlocking it swiftly, he maneuvered to the Snapchat app; quickly pointing his camera out the window, capturing a video of the view of the airport behind the plane's wing before switching to his front camera to show him pulling an excited face. Adding no text, he sent it off to Sapnap. 

They snapped back a few times back and forth before the pilot finally announced that they would be preparing for take-off, reciting the basic rules they announced before every flight. Phone off, seatbelts on, what to do if the plane goes down — the usual. George tuned it out, of course. His eyes were glued to the window. 

He could feel the movement of the plane, the slow lean in his body as the plane started to go up, the shake of his body as the plane shook from turbulence. It was just like he expected it to be. The sparks in his chest, the light that ignited in his eyes, all of it. It was ethereal. 

And it wasn't long before it was engulfed in the white clouds, which was George's cue to slide the flap closed. Quickly letting his eyelids the following suit as he promptly drifted off to sleep, the image of his old home blurry in his dreams. 

—

In what felt like seconds, the blaring voice of the pilot over the cockpit speaker startled the small brunette awake. Even with his heart just about beating out of his chest from the sudden noise, George was almost grateful that something had woke him up. Not only did he want to fulfill his wishes of staring down at Texas as it came into the plane's view, he couldn't help but wince at the possibility in which he had stayed asleep — waking up practically alone as everyone else around him rushed to the door. It almost gave him goosebumps, thinking about the forced sympathetic look he just knew the flight stewardesses would give him as he sleepily tried to quickly gather himself. 

The turbulence shook the sleep from his brain as he snapped back completely into reality. Taking small glances, out of curiously, at the passengers who sat around him, wanting to check that he wouldn't be disturbing anyone around him by reopening his window. Looking out the tiny airplane window, George stared down intently at the stretch of white clouds stretching miles across the otherwise pretty empty sky. Like they were a canvas, George's mind painted a landscape portrait of what he imagined the land beneath them to look like. Or at least as much as he could think up, even with the many American friends George had made throughout the years -- he was still clueless to what exactly America was actually like. Not even though all the times that George had found himself wanting to make the move, which he had already been contemplating before Sapnaps offer, did he make a point out of actually understanding what the country was like. Little by little, the mirage melted -- beginning to show splotches of the environment below it. 

The lower and lower the plane went, the more excitement that surged through George's body grew. It felt so unreal, to look down at Texas and being able to call it home. A home where one of his closest friend would become practically his family. All at once, as the wheel of the plane slammed on the black pavement, the solidarity practically destroyed him. With no hesitation, as soon as they were allowed to, George ripped himself from the stiff seating, hastily throwing his book bag over his shoulder and speed walked to the exits. The sound of his shoes hitting the hard floor was all George could focus on as he bucked and weaved through the crowded airport to baggage claim. 

He made sure that as he navigated his way through all the people to keep an eye out just in case Sapnap would just so happen to be camouflaged in the sea of people. Luckily enough for George, even in the crowd, he found Sapnap. Really, he didn't even have to try to look, he stuck out like a sore thumb, almost to the point of embarrassment. George put his finger on what made it more obvious that it was Sapnap, the oversized cowboy hat, the 'Don't mess with Texas' shirt or the comically generic cowboy boots he was wearing. 

Sapnap had yet to notice George's presence, it almost gave George half the mind to stealthily grab his luggage and call a cab to bring him to the house rather than going with Sapnap. And a he was in the backseat of the cab, we would ring Sapnap; letting him know he was on his way and that he definitely did not remember that they had agreed to meeting at the airport. How? Simply sleep deprived and disoriented from the long flight, must have just slipped his mind.

Of course, George had spoken too soon. Sapnap's hoarse voice booming as he called out to the Brit. If the Texans boy attire hadn't grabbed the attention of everyone around him, his yelling sure made up for it. George couldn’t help but roll his eyes in embarrassment, he mopped his way over to the boy, making a conscious effort not to make eye contact with anyone else around him. Ashamed by association. Barely a few steps in, he felt a heavyweight crash into his small body, almost with enough power to knock him over — the firm arms that squeezed around his waist being the only thing stopping him. 

Limp, George mumbled into the taller boy's shoulder, "I've not been here for any more than 5 minutes and you've already embarrassed me to the point of booking a flight back to Britain right now.", no real malice behind any of it. As embarrassing as it was, it was undeniably hilarious.

"Shut up Gogy, you love it." Sapnap retorted stubbornly, squeezing the boy a little tighter before hoisting him a few centimeters off the ground into a big bear hug.

Knowing it was true, George gave in just a little and let his pale arms wrap around Sapnap briefly. Just long enough make Sapnap even the slightest bit content so that he would stop being so enthusiastic, pushing him away when he felt he hit that quota. Surprisingly enough, Sapnap did not take this as a loss and attempt another hug. Rather, he let his arms drop as he rounded to the back of George, placing his hands firmly on the shorter boy's shoulders as he pushed him lightly to baggage. 

George peered at Sapnap through his peripherals, watching as the boy fidgeted in irritation as he waited for the couple of suitcases to come down. It was clear that he wanted nothing more than to hurry up and actually allow George to see his new home, up close and personal. Sapnap was practically running as he dragged George's suitcases out of the airport and through the parking lot. Throwing the bags into his trunk, praying that his throw wouldn't be too rough and break anything. It was just a risk he had to take to speed up the process and luckily George was too focused on his surroundings to even notice. 

He just sat wordlessly, taking out the passenger side window. Cars flew past, the world around him moving in a blur. The light patting of Sapnaps fingers against the steering wheel as he mumble sang the words to the song he was playing acted as background noise. 

"Oh George," snapping him out of his trance. 

He turned his attention to the younger boy, uttering a soft "Yeah?"

He watched as Sapnap sat momentarily, in a thoughtful pause. Almost as if he had to plan out what it was that he wanted to say next. A small sigh slipped through the boy's lips, George pretended he didn't hear it, "You know how I mentioned we might have a roommate?" 

Slight confusion flashed across George's face, "Yeah, why?"

Sapnap took yet another thoughtful pause, "We do have one.", his voice just the slightest bit timid. This was not upsetting news to George, he knew from the jump that there was always the possibility of there being someone else in the house. He never knew or asked who, not really seeing any importance in it as he was really there for Sapnap, not to mention George got along with basically everyone as-is. 

But now, given the fact that they were literally driving to the house as they spoke, he decided this was probably the time to ask who exactly the other roommate was. 

"Who? Do I know them?", he said simply allowing his eyes to wander about out the window. 

"Um, yeah you do know them.", the timidness in his voice growing with each syllable. "That's actually the thing, I've been meaning to tell you. I was going to tell you before you flew out but I just opulent bring myself to do it and I-", Sapnap rambled. All to which George rolled his eyes at, snapping his attention back to Sapnap. 

"Just tell me who it is." 

Another sigh fell from the youngers lips as he looked nervously over at George. 

"I'm not saying its Dream," narrowing his eyes, desperate to gauge Georges's emotions, "but its Dream."

George could feel the words build up in his throat before dripping down to the pit of his stomach. There was no anger or hurt, rather just pure shock. He would have never guessed that Sapnap would be crazy enough to willingly have himself and Dream as roommates— in the same house. And even going a far as to keep it a secret before just dropping that information like a bomb.

He let the concept play on his mind. Sure, just dropping this on him was somewhat of a low blow but in reality, George kind of liked the idea. Throughout all his life, he had never had the experience of being disliked. He never struggled with making friends or dating. In all honesty, George really had no shame in admitting to it either — he was quite popular. He was a magnet.

Dream, of course, had been the only exception to this. And at this point, George almost liked it that way. There was something so satisfying in their back and forth. Not to get confused, George did in fact have a deep-rooted hatred for Dream just a Dream had for him. Everything he did, everything he said enraged him, but that was partially the reason why messing with him felt all the better. George loved the Tom and Jerry trope that they had, the foreignness of the relationship sending George into a never-ending spiral of constantly craving a reaction out of the blonde. Even though he would most likely never admit to it, George had become almost consumed by his desire to bask in the emotions that pooled at the pit of his stomach any time Dream snapped at him. In words, George was incapable of describing what exactly the emotion was but it was addicting none the less. 

Nonchalantly, George gave a small shrug. Simply uttering an unbothered "Ok."

Slowly he could feel Sapnap tenseness fade, "Sorry I didn't tell you.", still somewhat apologetic. George let out a small light-hearted chuckle, "Sapnap, it's fine. I don't mind." Another sigh slipped past the boy's lips, this time out of relief. After that, the car ride was calm as the pair joked around and scream sang to the random songs that played out of the car speakers. And it wasn't long before the two were driving up the stretch of the house's driveway. 

Sapnap twisted the key out of the ignition, looking over at George. George looked back at his, laughing at the goofy toothy grin Sapnap was giving him. 

"Welcome home, George." 

Warmth flooded the older boy's chest. 'Welcome home' he thought again to himself, a small smile creeping upon his lips. Sapnap excitedly pushed open his door and ran to the trunk, grabbing George's luggage and booking it to the door. George took this as an opportunity to gather his thoughts as he sat still in the passenger seat. 

Countless thoughts stemming from George's happiness and excitement overstimulated his brain, this was everything he had been waiting for. Even though the defining thoughts, he could still hear one in particular — repeating over and over, ever so clearly. 

Dream, Dream, Dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a twitter for updates: [Here.](https://twitter.com/Daismika)
> 
> And I also have another DNF fic, its a royalty/ enimies to lovers AU: [Here.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27607898/chapters/67632374)
> 
> ALSO also, I've cross-posted these fics on [Wattpad](https://www.wattpad.com/user/Daismika) if anyone is more comfortable on Wattpad/ wants to support the fic there


	3. .*･｡ﾟ3.*･｡ﾟ

To say that Clay was pissed would be an understatement. 

Heat radiated off his body as the blood underneath his skin boiled. Any sound around him turned to muffled background noise as the pressure from holding back the scream he desperately wanted to let out built. Time was at a standstill, Clay staring down at George dumbfounded; George staring back smugly. He clenched his fists hard, feeling his fingernails dig into his palms— wanting to see if it hurt, signifying that this was real and not a dream. In response, he felt the sting of nails digging into flesh followed by a huge wave of realization washing over him; drowning him. 

Questions flew around his head. Why is he here?

In front of him, he watched as George’s lips twitched into a small knowing smile, completely wiping the prior smugness off his face. He blinked slowly, his eyes were sickeningly dark almost resembling a black hole; Clay feeling consumed by them. 

“I live here,” George said, clearly responding to the question Clay didn’t even know he had said out loud. You're lying. He had to be lying. 

“I’m not.” another slow, antagonizing blink. Clay could feel the embarrassment growing, he kept thinking out loud. Tearing his black eyes off Clay, he peered over his shoulder; throwing his hand lazily to point at the door that came before Clays. “That’s my room, right next to yours.”, you could almost hear the smile in his voice, obviously finding the whole predicament humorous. Knowing there was no reason to keep beating around the bush, Clay let the shock roll off his body and replace itself fully with hot anger. 

“There's no way you live here.”, watching George’s neck snap back in Clay’s direction. 

Again, his black eyes burnt holes in Clay’s green one; even though Clay was physically taller than the brit, still felt so small by George’s gaze. A small giggle slipped past the smaller boys lips, “And why is that?” 

“Because I live here.” 

“Dream,” his brows furrowing in patronizing amusement, “you do now more than one person can live in a house. It’s called being roommates.”

Clay rolled his eyes hard. “No shit, but Sapnap never told me that you would be living here. Meaning you have to be visiting or something.” He studied George’s expression, waiting to see the moment his face would drop as he realized that he had been called out on his bluff, but that never came. Instead, he watched as George tilted his head slightly, looking almost shocked at what Clay had said — the smile, however, not leaving his face. 

“That's weird. He told me about you living here,” he muttered with a shrug, turning slowly on his heels as he started walking to the door he motioned to earlier. Clay followed close behind him, not ready to end the conversation. The door was only a few steps away, Clay stared at the nape of Georges as stopped in front of his door — hand hovering over the knob. 

A small click sounded as George let his hand turn slowly on the knob, jerking his head to look at Clay; his tongue darting over his rosy lips. He was very obviously teasing the blonde.

Finally, the door was pushed open and Clay quickly tore his attention from George to the inside of the room. Immediately he recognized the blue and grey bedding that neatly dressed the queen-sized bed on where it was on the right side of the room. Although the pair were never friends and Clay never personally watched George’s streams, the thousands of screencaps that littered Twitter had made him familiar with random belongings of Goerges. The only thing even more obvious was the Youtube various play buttons that were lined up on the wall, proudly displaying the user ‘GeorgeNotFound’. 

George didn’t even turn to look at Clay again, back turned to him as he walked to his office chair; the monitors illuminating the desk slightly. One monitor displaying Georges Minecraft character standing idly in some random biome and the other on discord. 

“So, Dream, does this room look like I’m just visiting?” the sound of his chair squeaking slightly as he threw himself down in it. Stood in the doorway, Clay was fuming. 

“Fuck you.” he spat. 

George let out a few breathy laughs before retorting, “You wish.”

Clays face twisted in a mix of anger and disgust. “You know what I meant. I wouldn’t fuck you if you were the last person on earth”

“It’s cute that you think I would ever be desperate enough to want you to, anyway. There’s practically a line of people who want to fuck me, you’re a rebound at best.”

“Oh please, we both know that’s bullshit. Name one person who would.”

A few seconds passed, George taking his time to pick an answer. Clay could feel George side-eyeing him, knowing his next words would spark a reaction from the blonde. 

“Sapnap.”, he said confidently. 

Clay could feel his lip twitch as his anger went on overdrive. He knew as a fact that George was purposefully saying that knowing full well that it would set him off. Even more so now that the three of them, allegedly, lived together. George saying Sapnap in that moment was a declaration of war between the two of them. Nothing more had to be said, Clay already knew this was a warning shot; Geoge would do everything in his power to cling to Sapnap. 

It didn't help that Sapnap was already attached to George, being able to switch from thinking the brit is the most annoying person in the world to demanding George to being cutesy and cuddly. George had Sapnap wrapped around his finger and Sapnap didn't even know it, but Clay wasn't blind. 

Any time George would join a call he and Sapnap were in, he would put on a soft voice — saying things he knew would trigger Sapnap to fawn. Acting bashful when Sapnap would say something flirty knowing that Sapnap liked when he acted shy. 

All of it was an act and it would only go downhill from here. He could already see it now, George sitting unnecessarily close to Sapnap when he knew Clay would be home, talking loudly to Sapnap so Clay could hear it from a different room. God forbid George’s words had some truth to them and Clay ends up finding out the hard way, he wouldn't put it past George to go to that length just to get under his skin. 

“You're such a piece of shit.”, Clay muttered, not wanting to give the explosive reaction George wanted. 

George hummed, “Don't be jealous. I said you might get to be a rebound.”

Clay could feel his lips start to move, preparing to unleash the built-up anger that had been filling his chest but quickly snapped his mouth shut. He needed to separate himself, quick. His thoughts were moving a mile a minute, he could barely hear himself think. A few seconds passed as Clay let his anger marinate before turning roughly, walking briskly to the stairs. 

Behind him, he could hear George call out to him to close the door, which Clay obviously ignored as he stomped his way down the stairs. Not even concerned for his stuff that was sat unattended outside, he made a b-line to Sapnaps office throwing the door open. Clay didn’t even have the chance to say anything before Sapnap jerked around, guilt and fear plastered on his face. 

“I can explain.” 

Clay wanted to yell. He wanted to scream at Sapnap and cuss him out to hell and back but he held back knowing George would probably be upstairs listing, and it would only feed his already inflated ego if he heard anything. 

Still wanting to get his anger across, he whispered yelled to the younger boy. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I wan-“ Sapnap cut himself off, switching to match Clays whisper yell, “I wanted you to come live with me so bad. But I also wanted to live with George.”

“And you thought it was a good idea not to tell me?” 

Sapnap pressed his lips into a thin like, obviously out of guilt. “I knew you wouldn't come if you knew George was also going to be here.” 

A deep sigh of frustration shot past Clay’s lips, “We’re about to be on the news when one of us ends up dead and it’s going to be your fault.” his voice started to relax a bit. In all honesty, he was still happy to be here with Sapnap. He almost felt a bit bad for the boy, knowing he valued his friendships and wanted nothing more than to be close to them; he got the short end of the stick. Having two separate best friends that hate each other, making it near impossible for Sapnap to not feel like he’s navigating a landmine trying to juggle his friendships. 

“I’m sorry, Dream.” Sapnap muttered softly. 

Clay shook his head lightly, walking over to where Sapnap was sitting; punching him lightly in the shoulder. He needed to at least give this living situation a shot, all he needed to do was ignore George. 

“It's fine. I'll try to behave.” Clay mumbled, “only for you.” 

The smile that illuminated from Sapnaps face almost made all of this feel worth it. If Sapnap was happy, then Clay should at least try to be happy with him. 

—

Night consumed the day sky quickly after Clay confronted Sapnap. The ease of packing followed through to the process of unpacking; within the few hours that had passed, Clay had managed to unpack pretty much all of his belongings. Every time he would set something down or go to shut his dresser drawer after shoving some clothes in, he would use a little more force than usual -- knowing that just behind the wall George would be able to hear it. It was petty, Clay knew this, but he almost couldn’t help himself as the opportunity practically threw itself at him. 

With every hard thump, the original plan Clay had established reappeared in his head, reminding him pointedly that purposefully trying to irritate George didn’t really count as ‘ignoring’ him. If anything, he was almost baiting him to march his way over to Clay’s door almost mimicking the way Clay had at George’s door earlier that same day. In the back of his mind, he swore he could almost feel a whisper of desire; wanting to push him to be a little louder, almost assuring that George would have to come and say something. Maybe in an act of dominance, knowing George had to have been under the assumption that his earlier words had gotten under Clay’s skin-- truthfully, they had, but Clay would never admit it. The fact of the matter was, George had gotten the last word it was tormenting the blonde. 

What seemed to annoy Clay, even more, was the image of George that was burned into his mind. After years of relentless back and forth between the two, George making it a point to make Clay’s life a living hell -- they had finally come face to face. Shielded away behind a computer screen felt so different than being stood right in front of him. 

Clay knew George was small and thin, but standing in front of him, he felt like he could snap him in half if he were to grab him a little too rough. There was only a few inch difference in their heights but Clay felt like he was towering over the older boy. A lot of fans used the word ‘twink’ to sum up what the brit looked like and, with the little knowledge Clay had on what exactly a twink looked like, he couldn’t say he disagreed with the notion. It almost made sense how it came so easily to the boy, getting everyone caught in his web -- his words were just as soft as his looks. It felt wrong, everything about him screamed delicate but when it came to Clay, he turned poisonous. 

Ignore him. It was what he needed to do, for not only his sake but Sapnaps as well but, he couldn’t help but entertain the curiosity that had started to bloom in the back of his mind. Over discord, it was easy to act tough, through the years George had collected all the information needed -- strategically cherry picking thinks he knew he could use as ammo against Clay. It was a game of chess for him, playing his pawns with ease but now things had changed; this time in Clays favor. There was nothing that confirmed it, but just seeing George in the flesh had given Clay a sliver of confidence; thinking that if he were to try, he would probably be able to break the boy. Clay didn’t know what exactly meant, it was more of a feeling than anything-- hot in the pit of his stomach-- but he could imagine his large hand effortlessly holding both Georges pale, thin wrists. He could imagine the way George’s voice would falter, any smugness falling off his words as Clay consumed his small frame completely, maybe even splotches of red igniting on his milky face. His imagination was running wild at the possibilities. 

George never seemed to be affected by anything Clay said to him, if anything Clay had been convinced he was constantly playing George’s game. More than anything, Clay wanted to make George feel what he had felt for years, watching on the sidelines as his best friend was swept away, getting personally antagonized by on top of that. And now that they were all together, in the flesh, it felt as though an opportunity had presented itself. 

Maybe this wouldn’t be too bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I barely read over this cause I have a 90 question math assignment I have to finish before 3 pm tomorrow and wrote this instead of doing that. Also, on that note, it's exam week and I have about 6 exams I have to take, 4 after tomorrow so bare with me -- I still don't have an update schedule, so I'm not sure when ill be able to update next. 
> 
> I have a twitter for updates: [Here.](https://twitter.com/Daismika)
> 
> And I also have another DNF fic, its a royalty/ enimies to lovers AU: [Here.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27607898/chapters/67632374)
> 
> ALSO also, I've cross-posted these fics on [Wattpad](https://www.wattpad.com/user/Daismika) if anyone is more comfortable on Wattpad/ wants to support the fic there


	4. .*･｡ﾟ4.*･｡ﾟ

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I edited it and I'm praying it looks better now

There didn't need to be any spoken declaration for war for them to know that a battle had begun between the two — Clay and George. 

Within the span of a few days, the house had gone from a shared living space between supposed friends to a full-fledged war zone. Sapnap was oblivious as ever to the way the two acted only with wordless pettiness any time they were around each other. Never nothing how George would get slightly more clingy to him any time Clay would be in the room or anytime Clay would be a little louder than necessary when George would be in another room. 

Sapnap was incapable of focusing on the negative, in fact, more than anything he was happy more that neither of the two needed up murdering the other; the happiness from that alone hazed over the clear battle that played out in front of him. What threw him for more was there would be occasions where George would cuddle up to Clay, sometimes speaking to the blonde with his voice as soft as silk; Sapnap thought nothing of it, not knowing that he did it with the intentions of being patronizing. 

However, it didn’t really seem to matter as Clay's annoyance made up for Sapnap's ignorance. 

It took him a while, the shock of realization of just how much of an effect Georges' looks had on Clay still had him a little thrown him off. For the first few days, he was off his game, unable to face George without the hateful words he had ready on his tongue dissolving into nothing. It had gotten to the point where Clay was half tempted to simply live the rest of his days stowed away in his room, telling himself that maybe if Sapnap we’re to visit him in his room every so often he could stay there without losing his mind. 

That was until he had come to an interesting discovery, finding out Georges Achilles heel in a short-lived streak of luck. If he had given up any earlier, he would have missed it. Every attempt at retaliation that Clay still had the energy to do had been behind the walls of his room where he, just as he did the day he arrived, would stumble around with imitation clumsiness — talking in yells, laughing a little harder than necessary at all times. Clay knew that George knew all of it was bait; trying to lure the older boy to snap, George doing everything in his power not to show that his actions were getting to him. 

For hours George would sit in his computer chair or sprawled out on his bed, his nails digging into the palm of his hand as he fought the urge to bust through Clay's door, telling him to shut up — knowing that doing so would mean defeat. It only took a few days before George finally gave in, throwing all of his pride out the window when his sleep became a causality. All after coming to the realization of the fact that Clay had developed the nasty habit of being loud at hours that suspiciously lined up with the hours George tended to sleep and nap. 

The giddiness Clay felt knowing that he had finally gotten a reaction almost stopped him from realizing what would end up being his biggest weapon against the brunet. After the realization hit, the giddiness quickly replaced itself with a burning smugness as the battleground before him evened out. The memory had been so vivid in Clay's mind, the pride of killing two birds with one stone kept it fresh — revisiting it every so often just to remind himself that it was real. 

The sound of George's bony fingers against the wood of Clay's door almost perfectly matched the rhythm of the blonde sock-clad feet as he walked over, fighting the shit-eating grin he could feel building upon his lips. He could feel the vibration from Georges aggravated knocking against his calloused palms as he twisted the knob, throwing the door open. 

He did his best to act unaffected by George's softness as he leaned along the doorframe with feign innocence. George's face twisted as he readied his arsenal of angry words he had prepared but when he opened his mouth they faltered — getting stuck in his throat as he choked over his words. George had forgotten completely, shielded by the door, just how many inches the younger boy had on him and he was reminded the hard way as the door swung open and his hand was frozen in midair — just barely hovering over Clay's naked lower torso. His eyes widened to the point of popping out of his skull as his eyes were met with slightly tanned skin where most people that George spoke to eyes tended to be, moving slowly up before brown finally met green. 

He couldn't help but gawk, it really had been too long since George had seen Clay, not to mention the whole seeing him in real life thing was something that he was still adjusting to overall. If it had been anyone other than Clay, the growing burn that spread throughout the pits of Goerge's stomach would have been an intact ion to something more. If it had been anyone but Clay, Georges would slip up and the play flirting would become real. Whether Clay knew it or not, George did have a thing for taller men and where he stood right now — with Clay towering over him, looking large enough to devour him whole — he felt his knees wobble ever so slightly below him. 

For a split second, George could swear he saw a knowing glint flash over Clay's soft yellow-looking eyes and it shot shivers down George's spine. He felt almost scared, getting the lightest touch of the feeling he oh so often gave to others, making them feel shy and small to the point that they were pliable — in the palm of George's hands, wrapped around his fingers. And what was worse was that he almost wanted to lean into the feeling, letting any lingering fight that he still had evaporated as the heat in George's stomach came to a boil; but _where was the fun in that?_

Sure, Clay had caught him off guard; after years of being heard and not seen, George had gotten sloppy and it was only a matter of time before George's game had caught up with him, leaving him vulnerable. But, George had never been one to give in — rather in this case, he couldn’t. The way that Clay was looking at him, waiting for him to crumble, started a heat of a different kind within George — one that screamed at him to keep up the act. 

He pulled a face of feign disgust and he shook any lingering desires of defeated submission from his brain, labeling the realization of vulnerability as a queen's gambit. 

After what felt like hours of silence, a voice sounded through the empty air. It was deep and simple, “What do you want?” Clay mumbled, looking down at George with the lingering smugness still present on his face. 

Not knowing what to do with his hands, George crossed his arms over his chest. He wanted to ask him why he didn't have a shirt on, but he decided doing so would probably only dig him deeper into the pit he had already started forming. He rolled his eyes, stalling for time as he planned his words out carefully so that he wouldn’t stumble over them. 

“You’re being obnoxiously loud.” 

He looked up, watching as Clay's lips fought against a taunting smile. 

“Sorry, Georgie. Did I interrupt your nap?” He asked, just barely avoiding speaking to the older man in a baby voice. 

Once again, George felt his eyes fly to the back of his skull, doing his best to sound unbothered as a sigh slipped past his lips.

“Just stop being loud,” he murmured, letting his arms fall to his side. He turned to the side, readying himself to speed walk back into his room before quickly turning his gaze back at Clay who had shifted off the door frame — looking back at him curiously. 

With the little remaining strength he could muster, he glared up at the blonde. “And don't call me Georgie.”, ending his sentence with the slam of his bedroom door, leaving Clay to smile complacently to himself. Out of fear of the possibility of George walking back out of his room and seeing Clay smiling like an idiot to himself, he quickly turned into his room — kicking the door shut behind him. 

Clay sank in his computer chair, feeling the cool surface spawning goosebumps against his warm skin. He tried to focus his eyes on his monitor but the memory from not even a minute ago played and played in his mind. For the first time ever, George was speechless and shy and Clay had been the one to do it to him. The memory alone led to Clay feeling giddy, a repressed wealth of pride surfacing in his chest. He wanted to feel ashamed that it was shit like this that got a rise out of him but there was absolutely no way that he would be able to push the feeling down. 

There was something about the way George's eyes shot around like the ball inside of a pinball machine, desperately looking for anything that wasn’t Clay to focus on, that was so intoxicating. Clay theorized it was the way George's body was honest even when his words weren't, Clay couldn’t help but wonder if George reacted the same way while he was still sad behind a screen — taunting him through voice chat.

Did he always sit in his desk chair with a red glow heating up his face as Clay's voice played through his headphones? Did Clay always make him shy into submission? _God_ , what Clay wouldn’t do to know the answer to those questions. After the years of being under the impression that George was unaffected by it all, finding out that he wasn’t bulletproof would feel almost ethereal to Clay. 

He wanted nothing more than to know that he had just about the same amount of effect on George that George had on him. It was only fair. Even if all of it was new, George's shyness, Clay was ecstatic to know that even if he didn’t know it, he had George pinned under his thumb. And all he had to do was follow George's plan of sitting, playing coy, and speaking with soft innocence with just a hint of backhanedness. 

It didn’t even worry him that he was the only one that George did that with, knowing that following all the steps but leaving out the backhandednes was one of the strats George used to further Clay's torment. Making sure he had a line of mutual friends between the two wrapped around his finger to shove it in Clay's face. But it wasn’t like any of that mattered anymore. 

Clay witnessed the genuine side of George that he had made certain to hide when they were thousands of miles apart, separated by seas from continent to continent. For once, Clay could actually hear the raw emotion heavy on the shorter boy's voice, he could see the panicked confusion flash on his face. He reacted to Clay like he had touched a hot stove, something he had never witnessed before from the boy.

Clay let himself release a hard breath that he, at first, hadn’t been known he was holding in. The monitor blared blinding light in front of him as he desperately tried to pull away from the thoughts of George. As always, Minecraft was pulled up on one of his monitors, discord opened on the other. Due to the move, all three of the men had held off streaming as they tried to gradually adjust to the new living arrangements. Most gaming YouTubers tended not to play games outside of recordings and streams, but Clay had never been that type. 

Oftentimes he would find himself bored out of his mind, his solution was almost always resorting to playing Minecraft. 

After the occurrences that had just taken place, Clay's eyes could only barely focus on his in-game character as he jumped around the biome, punching randomly at air. After only a few seconds, Clay gave into the fact that there was no way in hell he had the brain compacity at the moment to keep playing. 

Before logging out, Clay tabbed out of the game — moving to discord to see all who was playing in hopes that maybe if there was someone else there, he would be able to take his mind off the situation with ease. He mannered through the channels with ease, quickly making his way to the gaming server. His eyes scared over the online section of the server's members, his eyes stopping abruptly on one name, in particular, George: _playing Minecraft_. 

_Time elapsed: 01:23_

Quickly Clay squeezed his eyes shut. Now it was becoming overwhelming, feeling almost as if it was a sign of sorts pushing Clay to annoy George more. Maybe George would be playing on the SMP; maybe Clay would log on and kill him over and over before George would storm back over to his room angrily to confront him. 

He had to remind himself that with power came responsibility. If he used the I formation he just received, the whole operation would crash and burn before he even really got started. It was better to celebrate the little victories as they happened. 

With another deep sigh, Clay moved his cursor across his desktop screen, opening the startup menu and choosing the shutdown option. He watched as the screen processed his request, quickly flashing his wallpaper before going black. Through the paper-thin walls, he focuses on the sound of George's skinny fingers typing away at his keyboard. 

Clay listens closely, treating the sound to be white noise of sorts as he leaned his head back against the back of his chair. He pinched his eyes closed, still seeing nothing but George behind his eyelids. 

_Damn, George._

He had found his weakness, finally. But the thought had finally washed over him, followed by spurts of underlying fear. Using George’s weakness against him could always come to bite him in the ass later. Clay doubted the possibility of it ever happening but he shuddered at the thought that after a while, the teasing would affect Clay just as much as it affected George. Like if he were to forget that George's soft looks were just for show, or forget that the same real look he had given Clay was the very same one he faked to others to get a reaction out of Clay. 

And for a split second, Clay felt almost thankful that over the years he was able to hide behind a computer screen and he was belittled by George. At least that way he wasn’t forced to confront his problems head-on. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a twitter for updates: [Here.](https://twitter.com/Daismika)
> 
> And I also have another DNF fic, its a royalty/ enimies to lovers AU: [Here.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27607898/chapters/67632374)
> 
> ALSO also, I've cross-posted these fics on [Wattpad](https://www.wattpad.com/user/Daismika) if anyone is more comfortable on Wattpad/ wants to support the fic there


	5. .*･｡ﾟ5.*･｡ﾟ

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really quick, I wanted to shout out a few people that I'm super thankful for before the chapter starts. So first I want to thank my 2 lovely beta readers who made sure my smooth sleep brain didn't show too much in the final product. 
> 
> Second, someone made art for this fic and it's really nice so I'm gonna [link it](https://twitter.com/MagentaRift/status/1348153072166596612?s=20) because,,, just wow

If someone were to put into words just how oblivious Sapnap was to the hostile aura that filled the entirety of their house, it would probably be enough to be considered a light novel. Truthfully, it was almost concerning how dense he was, thinking that just because the two other boys talked meant they were on good terms, completely ignoring that every conversation was just a watered-down argument. 

Within a week, Sapnap was back to streaming as normal and from there Clay followed. 

His short break wasn’t really anything out of the ordinary, his streams as of lately had tended to be pretty spaced out — only really ever showing up to others streams. As always, Minecraft was pulled up on his first monitor, set on the screen that showed all of his worlds while he readied his Streamlabs on his second monitor. Once he was positive everything was set up correctly, he pulled his headphones overhead and let his cursor move to the ‘go live’ button. 

Within seconds chat lit up with messages, moving almost unreadably quick. Clay could feel himself let out an amused chuckle as his eyes caught a few ‘we missed you’s” littered throughout the flying messages; he missed this, too. 

Saying a few quick greetings back to the chat, he opened a new world — his muscle memory from the years of playing seemingly switching on like clockwork as he quickly set the difficulty to easy. 

He took a few seconds to scan the biome around him, trying to gauge if the seed had any potential. It didn't seem to be too promising but he decided to start running around briefly to double-check, glancing over at chat in the meantime. 

Unlike earlier, the chat had become almost unanimously talking about one specific topic. Almost every single message had some sort of mention of George. 

‘Are you and George together rn?’

‘Did you, Sapnap, and George move in together?’

‘You’re living with George?! Lucky’

‘I didn’t even know you and George were friends’

‘Don’t leave us on seen, green man. Sapnap told us’

Fucking Sapnap.

Involuntarily, he let out an uneasy chuckle, trying to come up with something he could say so that he didn't seem like he was intentionally avoiding speaking on the topic. 

“I don't know what you guys are talking about.” He mused. “You guys should know by now Sapnap is a liar and a clout chaser. I would never move in with him.”

He was right, the seed was shitty. Going quiet for a second, he closed out of that world and opened a new one, starting the cycle all over again. Quickly, he glanced back over at the chat to see how they were responding to his roast on Sapnap. 

‘He posted a photo of him with Patches’

‘Dream you know Sapnap has a reputation for killing pets…’

Once again, fucking Sapnap. 

“Ok, you guys caught me. I didn't want to embarrass Sapnap but he went and told you guys anyway.” 

He paused, choking back the laughter that had already started building in his chest. 

“So, the rumors are true. Sapnaps mother and I got married and I am now Sapnaps stepdad. Now, we're all living together like a happy family, I guess.” It felt good, just a little revenge on Sapnap for telling their audience without mentioning it to him first. “He must have left that detail out, he was so embarrassed that he threw Georgenotfound into the mix to throw you guys off.”

Boy, did Clay think he was a comedian. He was in full swing, wheeze laughing at his own stupid jokes, laughing so hard that he had failed to pick on the steadily increasing thuds that made their way towards his room. His door swung open and he practically jumped out of his chair, letting out a high pitched squeak; if he hadn’t been scared shitless, he would have been amazed that his voice was capable of going that high. 

His neck snapped to the direction of the door where Sapnap stood with an unreadable expression on his face, looking somewhere in the middle of disgusted and amused. Clay had a good idea what was coming next, he wanted to move to mute his microphone as Sapnap jogged over to his computer chair, but his fingers couldn't react fast enough. Sapnaps screaming was already being picked up by the microphone, dragging Clay away who watched in terror as the audio bars on his Streamlabs peaked. 

Despite the situation, Clay was laughing as he tried to pull Sapnap away. 

“You guys, Dream is full of shit. He hasn’t even met my mom. Stop-“ Sapnap swatted at Clay who was now full cackle. “And he never will meet my mom because he's a fuc- fudging freak.”

“Ok, ok,” Clay said, trying to calm himself down to talk to chat. “It’s true, Sapnap and I are living together.” 

“And George!” Sapnap added, excitedly.

There was a scoff building in Clay’s throat but he quickly pushed it back down. “Not George.” 

He refused to give his chat a reason to bring up George, to assume that they were friends enough to live together. Streaming was supposed to be the place where he could escape, acknowledging George’s presence in his chat was single-handedly going to take that away from him all because of Sapnap’s big mouth. 

Sapnap had straightened slightly, moving away from the microphone and Clay moved his chair back to his desk, his hands already back to his keyboard and mouse as he continued his run. 

“He’s literally in the room right next to you.” 

Clay’s in-game character punched a few sheep and pigs to death, which he admittingly didn't really need, he had a good amount of bread he had made from looting an earlier village but he was trying to take out some of his IRL anger through the game. 

“He's not.” 

“He i-“ Sapnap was cut off by a third voice booming from the open doorway. 

“Could you both please shut the fuck up? I’m trying to sleep.” His accent gave him away immediately. 

Clay's head snapped in the direction of the voice so hard he was scared that he may have pulled something. He wasn’t even capable of finding it odd that George was sleeping at 4 in the afternoon, all he could feel was seething anger for a handful of different reasons. Ignoring the one being that George’s general existence tended to anger the blonde; he had managed to barge in with the worst possible timing in history, shouting live on Clay’s stream where the moment could be clipped and seen by thousands. 

Knowing how the audience was that the three collectively had, the moment would probably be trending in a few minutes, the clips of Sapnap barging in and George yelling at them would be mass posted from Tik Tok to Twitter to YouTube compilation channels. Clays indirects, donations, and reply tweets would be filled with talk of George. 

He was an absolute parasite. First his friends, then his home, and now his career; George had made it a point to be in every nook and cranny of Clay's life. 

“Gogy,” Sapnap exclaimed. 

“Sapitus Napitus,” George mused back. 

“See chat, Dream is a filthy liar.” 

Clay stayed quiet, he was still mindlessly punching away at random things, trying to stop himself from snapping. Night had already come and he was further in the run than he would usually allow himself to be, the timer in the top corner reading somewhere nearing the hour mark. 

After what felt like a blink, the ‘game over’ screen popped up on Clay’s monitor. The words ‘blown up by a creeper’ tormenting him, provoking him. Behind him, he could very clearly hear Sapnap erupt into laughter, George's faint voice muffled by the laughter asking if he died, and Sapnap confirming he died. 

Clay was practically overflowing with rage. “I think I’m ending it here, chat.” He said shortly, trying his best not to let the full extent of his frustration be heard in his tone. He couldn't even be bothered to choose someone to raid as he quickly maneuvered to the ‘end stream’ button. By the time he had completely closed out of everything and shut off his computer, Sapnap’s laughter had died out completely. 

“Ok, the fun is over. Get out of my room.” Clay mumbled, swiveling in his chair to face the younger boy. 

Sapnap looked down at him, “Why’d you end the stream?” He asked stubbornly. 

A sigh slipped past Clay's lips as he pushed himself up from his chair, “I died because you're bad luck. Now get out.”

This time Sapnap listened and turned on his heels to head towards the door, laughing. He brushed past George who was still standing, leaning against the doorway. As soon as Sapnap was out of the room, George flashed him a smug, knowing look. 

Clay instantly recognized it meaning that George coming in was no accident. It was a look that told him George knew if he came in here and did that, it would push Clays buttons and that was the only reason he had done it. He didn't even break eye contact with Clay as he pushed off the doorframe and turned to go back to his own room. 

The click of George’s door sounded through the silence, Clay stood for a moment, brewing in his anger. Only a few seconds had gone by before Clay felt his feet moving before his mind had the chance to stop him as he stomped his way over to George’s room. 

He didn't even bother knocking before he threw the door open, his eyes instantly meeting George’s. George didn't look scared or shocked in the slightest, it was almost as if he expected Clay to waltz in his room as he did. 

Clay roughly slammed the door back shut as he entered the room, snapping his body to face George who was standing at the side of his bed, his perfectly made bed — not looking even remotely slept in like George had claimed he had been doing. 

Like always, George’s eyes were unreadable as he looked back at Clay, not even bothering to ask why the blonde had just barged into his room. 

A sharp sting spread through Clay’s palms as he dug his fingernails into his skin. “What’s your fucking problem?” He spat. 

George let out a small breathy laugh as he tilted his head slightly, his tongue quickly swiping across his bottom lip. “I don't know what you’re talking about.” There was something about his words that spiraled Clay into further annoyance. 

“You do. What possessed you to come into my room while I was streaming.”

The brunet shifted a bit, crossing his arms as he shrugged. “You hurt my feelings, Dream.” Trying his best to mimic hurt. “I could hear you denying we live together, are you embarrassed of me?” 

“I thought you said you were sleeping.” Clay fumed. 

“You're ignoring the question.” He shot back, not seeing a reason in trying to solidify his obvious lie any further. 

“You know the answer to that already. I’m not embarrassed of you, I’m embarrassed to be living with you.”

George laughed, completely unaffected. “I don't see why, your fans seemed to be excited to hear we’re acquainted. Or were you embarrassed from being shown up on your own stream?” 

Another wave of anger washed over Clay, he took a few steps closer to George almost out of instinct — wanting to hit the boy, or at the very least give him an aggressive shove. 

“You’re a fucking idiot.” Was all he could manage, trying to get a hold of himself before things escalated. 

“You know,” George lulled thoughtfully, looking up at Clay with a small smile, “If you were nicer to me, I would even consider doing some charity work and being on your stream one of these days.”

Nicer? Clay's feet moved before he had the chance to stop them, his arms flying out to meet the upper part of George’s chest that wasn’t covered by his arms, shoving him back which caused the boy to stumble and fall against his mattress. For a split second, through his badger clouded vision, Clay could see George lose his composure but it snapped back almost immediately. 

His arms had moved behind him, supporting his weight as he leaned back slightly to look up at Clay. If the blonde were to come any closer, he would be standing between George’s slim legs. He fought to keep the smug look on his face, but pink splotches from the rising blood warmed his pale cheeks. The same feeling that pooled in his stomach the first time Clay had gotten close to him like this — towering over him, making sure he had known just how easily he could overtake him with even the littlest of effort. George would never admit it to himself, but the feeling had been something weirdly similar to arousal. Mentally, he cursed Sapnap, who always called George out for being the world's biggest shit talker until he was confronted. All bark, no bite. 

He opened his mouth, getting ready to say something else slick but he was quickly cut off by Clay’s low voice. 

“George, you're going to listen to me,” His green eyes slowly grew dark. It was a demand, not a request. “You’re going to stop fucking testing me.”

George’s head lulled to the side in mock innocence, keeping his eyes on Clay’s as he listened to him speak. 

“No more walking into my room, no more snarky side comments, no more flirting with Sapnap just to get a rise out of me. You're going to stop all of it.”

A small hum sounded from George's throat, “Jealous, are we?”

Everything Clay just said had clearly gone in one ear and out the other. The blonde let out a hard breath, shaking his head slightly in annoyed disbelief at just how brave George was being, considering his current position. 

“You don’t know how to listen, do you?” 

Another hum, “Last time I checked, you're not the boss of me.” He stubbornly pushed. 

“I’m not,” Clay agreed, “But you’re going to do what I say.”

“And what if I don't?” George challenged. His curiosity getting the better of him, desperate to know just how much of an effect he had on Clay — driving him to the point of demanding George to stop. 

Clay leaned slightly, his face moving closer to George’s; George refusing to tear his eyes away in risk of allowing Clay to think he was getting what he wanted. The gaze they shared was intense, George had failed to notice as one of Clay's large, calloused hands raised to ghost over his neck. His rough fingertips burned as they ran over his skin until the entire length of his fingers stretched around his neck, his thumb digging just under his jawbone as he tightened his grip slightly. Finally, George shed slightly beneath him at the touch, allowing Clay a small feeling of victory. George really was all bark, no bite. 

“I'll make you.”

-

Originally, George was dead set on denying the fluttering in his stomach any time Clay stood in his personal space; But after days of reminiscing how Clay's long fingers felt wrapped around his throat — there was no more running from the obvious. At this point, he couldn't even begin to count on two hands just how many times he had thought about doing something to make Clay do it again, maybe leaving behind a few bruises as a reminder. 

To put it simply, George was sexually frustrated. 

He wanted to try his luck and intentionally do something that would set Clay off, but he knew that it would only spiral him further into his weird infatuation with the younger boy. George despised himself for it, but he listened to Clays orders — avoiding ticking him off when possible. But the lust never went away and it was driving George crazy. 

Luckily, a shimmer of hope came for George in the form of Sapnap announcing that he was planning to have a ‘housewarming’ party, the ‘housewarming’ party being an obvious excuse to cover the fact that he really just wanted to have a party. 

He mentioned that there would be some mutual friends there; Karl, Quackity, and Punz. But there would also be some of his local college friends, and friends of those friends. This almost assured George that he would be able to find someone to relieve his pent up frustration on, so he could go back to doing what he did best, annoying the shit out of Clay. Sapnap was surprised at George’s enthusiasm, the boy had never been much of the ‘party type’ but, thankfully, he didn't question it. 

The prep was done in shifts, Sapnap doing most of the work as George and Clay popped in and out to help when the other was elsewhere. And before the three knew it, the night of the party came. Their typically relatively empty living room was packed with people, the smell of cheap alcohol and sweat strong in the air. 

In the kitchen stood Clay, a red solo cup held begrudgingly in his hands. He wasn’t a drinker by any means, but somehow he had let himself be peer pressured into it by Quackity and Sapnap who circled him, drunkenly throwing insults that Clay could only shut up by getting a cup of god knows what for himself. He didn't genuinely feel peer pressured by the two idiots, if he really, really wanted to — he could have said no, but truthfully a drink was probably what he needed after the past couple of weeks he had been having. 

The warmth from his awful tolerance was already spreading through his body, the deafening noise around him from the sea of voices and booming music sounding more like muffled background noise as time went on. His eyelids stooped slightly, leaning against the kitchen island to stable himself as he tried to focus on what his friends were talking about. 

Sapnap, Quackity, and Karl were yelling at each other, throwing around a few profanities to which Bad would inject with a warning for them to watch their language -- to which they ignored every time, carrying on with their screaming match. Beside them stood Punz and George, staying quiet for the most part, only speaking up when the other three took a second to breathe and give them the chance to contribute to the conversation. 

A few times, when Clay was able to make out some of what was being said, the conversation would shift to something pertaining to the tipsy, reserved Brit. It seemed like any time one of the boys slurred out one of George’s many stupid pet names, “Gogy”, “Gogmister”, “Georgie” -- Clay’s ears would perk up, suddenly finding the conversation considerably more interesting. He would find his eyes moving to the older boy, watching him as intently as he could given his slightly inebriated state, thinking back to the warning he had given him just a few days back. 

As much as Clay hated the act George put on, he had to give George the benefit of the doubt that there were times that someone else would bait a flirty reaction out of him; Clay knew just as well as anyone else that the large majority of their friend group were raging homie-sexuals, especially when it came to George. But now, George was expected to react with the warning Clay had given him in mind; careful not to rile the blonde up and make good on his promise of what would happen if he were to disobey his orders. 

Sapnap cooed at the brunette with exaggerated adoration to which, in the presence of Clay, George would typically take to his advantage -- seeing it as a window of opportunity to piss the blonde off. Now all he could muster was an uneasy chuckle as he side-eyed Clay, painfully aware of how scrutinizing the other's gaze was on him. His knees beneath him went slightly wobbly when the blonde’s lips tugged ever so slightly to a small satisfied smile, almost praising him for being so compliant not to anger him. 

Thankfully enough for George, Sapnap was too tipsy to notice -- his flirtatiousness moved to be directed at Karl but Clay kept his eyes on George. He liked having George under his thumb with the roles reversed. George on the other hand, his throat going dry -- not being able to tell if the warmth in the pit of his stomach was from the alcohol or something else, was suffering. 

Hurriedly, he excused himself from the group, walking to the fridge to pull Mike’s Hard Lemonade from Bad’s excluded, off-limits alcohol stash. He was careful not to look back as he exited the kitchen with his drink in hand, the further he got from Clay, the easier it would

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a twitter for updates: [Here.](https://twitter.com/Daismika)
> 
> And I also have another DNF fic, its a royalty/ enemies to lovers AU: [Here.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27607898/chapters/67632374)
> 
> ALSO also, I've cross-posted these fics on [Wattpad](https://www.wattpad.com/user/Daismika) if anyone is more comfortable on Wattpad/ wants to support the fic there


	6. .*･｡ﾟ6.*･｡ﾟ

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's been super long since I last updated so quick recap: Dream laid down some ground rules for George telling him to stop flirting with Sapnap and got a little handsy. Sapnap decided to throw a housewarming party and there's a bit of tension between Dream and George.

Even when his eyes were closed, with the only light penetrating the skin of his eyelids being the multicolored rays projected by the cheap disco ball Sapnap had purchased the day before, Clay could see the world around him spinning. Or maybe he could feel it -- the slightly wobbling he was doing probably should have been a dead giveaway, but it wasn’t like Clay could necessarily tell the difference. In all honesty, the warmth from the few drinks he had drunk over the span of the hour that had gone by had finally started to really settle in. The numb airiness began to wash over him, starting from his fingertips and then his brain -- slowly overtaking any intelligent thoughts, replacing them with incoherent mush. 

Before moving in with Sapnap, Clay had never particularly minded having a drink or two. Despite the headaches he would be cursed with the morning after a night of drinking, he thrived off of the way alcohol seemingly made everything funnier -- always leaving him with a story to reminisce on months after the fact.

Now, even in minor inebriation, he could tell something was off. Almost every other minute Clay would feel himself look for something; _someone._ His knees jerking up and down as his leg bounced vigorously -- a desperate attempt to soothe the anxiety that plagued him. Anytime a short boy with jet black hair would bob around in the crowd of people, Clay’s leg would freeze and the tremor would shoot up from his leg to his heart as it beat aggressively against his chest. He would take a sharp inhale, practically tasting the alcohol on his breath, as he waited for the person’s face to come into focus.

In the end, the familiar figure would end up being a nameless face, and instantly his leg would go back to shaking -- the unwarranted feeling of disappointment creeping up his chest as he played another game of knockoff 'Where's Waldo’. The only relief Clay had gotten was the few glances he had got of Sapnap, Karl, Quackity, Bad, and Punz, not once being spotted George among the group. And when they roamed their way back into the kitchen to refill their drinks or pester Clay, they never left with another bottle of Georges trademark Mike’s hard lemonade -- meaning, when they were absent from the kitchen, they weren’t with George. 

Even outside of Clay’s presence, George finally learned to be obedient. Taken at face value, Clay started off giddy with seeing his dominance at play but there was no ignoring the obvious question: ‘ _If George wasn’t with them, who was he with?’._

An absence from Sapnap and Punz was understandable, there was only so much George could endure trying to annoy Clay -- it wasn’t unusual for George to have to stop his act midway the second Sapnap started acting up. Acting something similar to a cat who loves being pet until the petting goes on for too long -- not hesitating to bite. Karl and Quackity, however, were practically glued to George’s side at all times and if you thought Quackity was clingy sober, intoxication increased his clinginess by a tenfold. 

Clay's thoughts were a double-edged sword, he was happy George was following his orders while at the time he was losing his mind not knowing where George was and what he was doing. If he didn’t spend years with a burning hatred for the brit, he would have had half the mind to say he was being borderline obsessive. But of course, that wasn’t the case. _Yeah,_ he thought, _just want to make sure he’s not testing me._

Almost on cue, Sapnap stumbled his way drunkenly into the kitchen, Karl and Quackity not far behind him. Sapnap made his way over to Clay, Karl, and Quackity, on the other hand, acted like he didn’t exist as they flew to the island -- stuffing their face with food, their sullied words becoming even more incoherent as they shouted gibberish with their mouths full.

Clay grimaced at the sight, feeling like he was at some bizarre human petting zoo watching the animals eat -- Quackity dropping multiple cookies in the process, a heartbroken groan as he mourned over his fallen cookie soldier. Sapnap, clearly used to the behavior, blatantly ignored the pair, looking straight at Clay with an amused, knowing glance. Wordlessly, Clay stared back trying to lure Sapnap to spill whatever he had on his mind. 

He could hear the younger boy humming teasingly as he stood beside him facing the counter Clay had his back leaning on, filling his cup with a mix of different fluids of all variations -- juices, sodas, and vodka. 

“Dream,” Sapnap singsonged, his voice dripping with amusement. “Sapnap,” Clay retorted blandly, a small smile forming on his face disregarding his tone. Sapnap spun around, mirroring the way Clay was standing, his unoccupied arm propped against the counter as he took a quick gulp of his drink shuttering slightly as it slid down his throat. 

“I think you might have to sleep on the couch tonight,” he said casually, taking a quick glance at Clay again before taking another gulp of his drink. 

Clay could feel his eyebrows knit in confusion, was someone fucking in his bed or something?

“Why?” 

He could see Sapnap choke back a chuckle, there _had_ to be people fucking in his bed. And he couldn’t really blame Sapnap for laughing, as annoyed as he wanted to be -- there was a ghost of humor in the concept. 

But, much to Clay’s surprise, that wasn’t Sapnap’s reasoning. 

“I think George is getting laid tonight.” no longer being able to hold back his laughter. 

_No fucking way_. 

“You’re fucking with me,” shocked at how unintentionally desperate his words sounded rolling off his tongue. Almost begging Sapnap to claim it was just a bluff. Unfortunately for Clay, his prayers weren’t answered

“No, dude, I’m serious.”

Clay hesitated, his body inclined to take action before his mouth -- tearing through the living room to see it with his own two eyes. He took a deep breath, “How do you know?”

Another chuckle sounded from Sapnaps lips as he moved his eyes out to the living room, most likely looking to see if he could spot George to point him out to Clay. “He’s been hanging off some guy all night, they’re practically already fucking each other with their eyes,” he said with a lighthearted, joke gag. 

“George flirts with everyone Sapnap -- whoever that guy is -- he’s not special,” Clay muttered, at this point, he was trying to convince himself more than he was trying to convince Sapnap. 

“You don’t think I know that, dumbass?” Clay wasn’t looking at Sapnap but he could hear the eye-roll in his voice, “I tend to be his victim pretty often. I’m telling you it’s going to happen.”

There was a very distinct difference in the heat that pooled in the bottom of Clay’s stomach, the anger was red hot, feeling something similar to magma whereas the few shots he downed were more of a warm molasses. His already blurred vision clouded over even more as the feeling involuntarily washed over him, the crackling of the cheap plastic clutched in his one hand -- his knuckles of his other hand turning white as his grip on the kitchen island tightened. 

Sober Clay would find it more concerning just how much George’s sex life affected him, not ever really going against the ground rules he had laid out for the burnet. Within the few hours that had gone by, Clay had only caught a handful of glances at George and with every appearance, George was alone or behaving the way Clay expected of him -- if Sapnap hadn’t told him, he probably wouldn’t even have known. But, sadly, sober Clay had stepped out for a moment, taking all ability to think responsibly. At the moment, it just felt like a slap in the face and, by primal instinct, he reacted. 

There was no way for Clay to allow himself to stay in the kitchen wondering, he had been doing that for the entire night clearly that hadn’t got him too far. Not even bothering to finish his drink, he tossed the cup carelessly into the sink -- not even bothering pouring the liquid out and throwing the cup in the trash.

Next to him, Sapanp smirked. For once, Clay was almost thankful for Sapnaps inability to read social cues, he proudly sported a look of knowing smugness -- fully assuming he knew the reason why Clay was upset (when, in reality, he didn’t even know the half of it.) Hell, at this point, Clay didn’t even know if he’d be able to pinpoint the exact reason for his anger either but for both him and Sapnaps’ sake, he’d just go with it. 

“I still think you're lying,” _he didn't actually,_ “show me.” 

It was all he could manage without letting his anger make an appearance in his voice. Sapnap threw back the last of his drink and pushed himself off the counter, not even bothering to refill his cup as he stumbled out of the kitchen with Clay at his heels. They pushed through the crowd, the smell of sweat and alcohol heavy in the air stinging Clays nostrils -- he almost did a double-take at just how rancid the living room smelt in comparison to the kitchen. That was partially the reason he hadn't left his station for the majority of the night, the kitchen missing the swat aspect that the living room so generously took instead. 

Every step closer, Clay would see a mop of black hair curtaining over pale skin out of his peripherals, not once did he do a double-take. He had seen a majority of them before, he had committed their features to memory -- not wanting to make the mistake of confusing them for George for a second time. He felt like Moses splitting through the crowd, his height giving him an extra advantage.

Sapnap didn't even have the chance to say anything, Clay gapped at the scene before him. Leaning against the wall was George -- red glowing of his cheeks and he sported a small, toothy smile, clearly giggling. His eyes were glazed over ever so slightly, his head lulled slightly against the wall as she stared dopily up at the stranger that was chatting him up. The stranger that was causing his smile. 

Next to him, he knew Sapnap was saying something but it all just sounded like static. He stared directly at them, at this point not even caring if they were to have caught him. Really, he almost _wanted_ them to notice him -- or at the very least, George to notice. 

Instead, the other man raised his hand, bringing it to George’s forearm before letting it slide down, stopping at George’s wrist. He pulled George to him gently -- chests almost touching -- Clay could practically feel his heartthrob. George batted his eyelashes, flashing the boy another dopey smile before standing up on his tippy toes, snaking his free arm around the taller man's neck so he could whisper something in his ear. Everything about the movement perfectly mimicked the half-assed flirtatious ploys Goerge would pull on Sapnap, Clay knew them all too well only missing the joking nature. It made him feel a bit better, knowing that George was most likely sober -- he could feel his hand unclench ever so slightly. Clay, not having the same privilege of being sober, has been overcome with the urge to hit someone. 

Because he hated seeing people take advantage of drunk people for sexual gain of course. No other reason, definitely not trying to protect anyone in particular from possessive instincts. 

No way. 

However, luckily enough for Clay, his friends made up for his abundance of respect for social cues. Karl stumbled over with Quackity in tow, Clay, finally managing to move his focus momentarily back to Sapnap -- the loud blabbering from the three making it pretty easy to pull his attention back. It was practically a shouting match but they somehow managed to unanimously take note of George’s current predicament immediately making the unspoken agreement to pester him. The three wasted no time swarming George and his prey like sharks, Clay following behind with satisfied curiosity. Lord only knew how hard it had been for him to hold back confronting George himself, so if he hadn't been thankful for his friend’s idiocracy before -- he was now. 

“Gogy,” Sapnap singsonged at the same time Quackity gasped out a “George.”

An audible sounded as George went to pull away from his toy, his eyes moving to meet the obnoxious pair but stopping in their tracks after they landed on Clays. The burnet stumbled back slightly, his arms falling back to his side, pushing the helping hands from the stranger away as he tried to help steady the boy. George was startled, but he quickly regained his composer remembering that technically he was well within his rights under their ‘agreement’. He pulled his eyes away, hoping that maybe if he ignored Clay he would disappear entirely, George had already gone through enough trying to find a distraction to get _away_ from thinking out the blonde but he was making it really hard. 

Sapnap, who was usually soft-spoken and shy around strangers had gained a circumstantial amount of drunken boldness, suddenly taking more interest in the guy George was with than George himself. Quackity on the other hand doubled down on George, teasing him recently while Karl chimed in every so often with a snarky side comment or shrill laughter but George, quite honestly, lacked the energy to retaliate. Instead, he snapped his head back over to his booty call, whose name Clay overheard when he introduced himself to Sapnap -- Steve. Clay was still staring holes into George and George knew it. He was practical to the point of melting from the heat of his gaze.

Annoyed to see Steve preoccupied, ignoring the fact that he and George were just minutes away from ditching the party to fuck in the privacy of Goerge’s room, George took the fabric from the hem of the boy’s shirt tugging it lightly. George at this point had already completely blocked out Quackity, desperately grasping for an excuse to dismiss themselves from the rest of the group’s presence -- rather, out of Clay’s presence, Sapnap, Karl, and Quackity were more of a minor annoyance than anything. 

Stave hummed absent-mindedly, sparing George a quick side glance before turning his attention to Sapnap who had still been rambling on and on. A small frown flashed on George’s face before he raised his pale hand higher, his fingers dipping beneath Steve’s chin to caress the opposite side -- pulling his face to meet his. Another bat of the eyelashes as George nodded his head, signaling that he wanted to go. 

Sapnap groaned in protest, clearly enjoying the conversation. “You’re so annoying, George. Why are you hogging your new friend from the rest of us?” 

George rolled his eyes, “keywords, _my_ new friend. Aren’t the three of you supposed to be setting up karaoke anyways?” 

Almost immediately, any interest in continuing the conversation vanished as they scattered away excitedly. Clay, however, remained in his spot. George’s hand had already traveled down to grab Steve's wrist -- slowly pulling him away. Noticing Clay’s lingering presence, Steve paused to politely excuse himself to which Clay ignored -- pushing past the boy to get to George. He had held back for far too long. 

Sticking his broad arm in Goerge’s path, Clay crouched down slightly in an attempt to force George to look at him. “Where do you think you’re going, Georgie?” Clay growled. 

George kept his eyes down, “it’s really none of your business now is it, Dream?” trying his best to sound unnerved. Clay shook his head, tutting quietly, “Oh, but it is my business. We had an agreement, George.” 

In front of him, George winced letting his grip on Steves loosen as he pulled it out of George’s grasp. 

“I thought I had made myself clear yet here you are,” Clay continued, his eyes flicking behind George's shoulder to Steve who stood in confusion, “With Steve. So I’ll ask again, where do you think you’re going?” 

There was no use to avoiding it, George’s head snapped up -- glaring up at Clay. “You’re such a dick, Dream. You _know_ this has nothing to do with our agreement. You’re just reaching for something to be mad at me for.” 

“Weird because I thought I explicitly told you to stop the flirting with everyone that shows you the slightest bit of attention. “

George scoffed in disbelief, getting in Clay’s face, jabbing his finger in the boy’s direction. “Bullshit, you told me to stop flirting with people _in front_ of you. And, would you look at that, you went out of your way to find me just to start something.” He took another daring step closer, Clay straightening to keep the distance between them, George jabbed his finger again -- digging it into Clay’s broad chest. “My world doesn’t revolve around _you_ ,” another jab, “Dream.”

Every word was exasperated, the exhaustion from walking on eggshells for the past few days no longer able to keep itself contained. He already despised being told what to do but the fact he really had no choice but to be obedient -- George was fed up. 

There were so many more things he wanted to say, he had half the mind to let everything he had been holding back like word vomit but he paused, wanting to hear whatever bullshit excuse Clay would make up to turn it around on George again. His silence was somehow louder than the party around them as Clay stared emotionlessly down at George but George didn’t back down. Suddenly a voice sounded through the tense air, but it wasn’t Clay’s mouth moving. 

George looked over his shoulder to where Steve stood, his face had paled considerably, looking almost nervous. His eyes met Goerges for a quick second before moving past him to look at Clay, “Look man, I just wanted to let you know, I had no idea he had a boyfriend.”

_Boyfriend?_

George’s jaw quite literally dropped, there was no way this was real. “Clay,” George spat, “is _not_ my boyfriend.” 

Steve’s eyes moved from Clay to George then back to Clay wordlessly asking him to confirm or deny if Goegre’s claim was true or not, but he remained silent -- the only change in his stature being the cold glare he now had trained on Steve. 

“Yeah.... I actually have to go anyway. I just remembered I forgot to… I forgot to turn the oven off.” he said slowly, inching his way backward before turning around and shuffling away muttering a small ‘sorry’ that was clearly more so directed to Clay than it was to George. 

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” George snapped, looking back at Clay who now sported a small smug smile, similar to the one he had only a few hours earlier that night. 

“I didn’t do anything.” Clay retorted with faux innocence. 

George’s eyes darted around the room, trying to gauge how many people’s attention he would get if he when off on Clay then and there. Sadly, he had to remember that this wasn’t a vacation -- this was his new home so if he were to embarrass himself and get a reputation as a psycho after not even a full year of living here, it wouldn’t be good. Instead, George snatched up the green fabric of Clay’s hoodie sleeve and pulled it as he stopped his way from the living room to the stairs. Clay followed behind easily, not putting up a fight of any kind -- only asking once where George was taking him, a question to which George spitefully ignored. 

The two reached the top of the stairs, George stomping his way over to his bedroom door, he was relieved to see the makeshift ‘Do not enter’ sign taped on his door had been successful when he pushed open his bedroom door to see it was empty -- looking the same as it did before the party. He shoved Clay into the room first, following behind quickly before flipping around to close the door behind them -- the click from the lock snapping through the air. 

George wasted no time, “Are you trying to make my life a living hell?”

Clay looked dazed, his eyes moving slowly around the room trying to focus on anything but George. He was playing it cool, but the truth was his heart was pounding against his chest. On the floor below them were tons of people bustling and socializing and Clay had not too long ago been amongst them but now he was here -- alone with George. It was easy to act tough when there was an audience, their feud had always been passive aggressive -- flying below the radar -- but in private, it was a different story. 

“I could ask you the same thing, George.” his voice dry and barren, trying to hide the frustration. “Hence why we had an agreement. An agreement that _you_ broke.”

George threw his head back with a heavy sigh, “this again, Dream, that had nothing to do with you. For one, I was nowhere near you, and two, you don't even know that guy. So what are you really trying to do?”

“You're telling me that hookup had nothing to do with me?” 

George grimaced. If he were to say no, it would technically be a lie, but it wasn’t like he could say that. “I'm starting to think you're just obsessed with me.” 

“Obsessed with you?” Clay bit back. 

“Yeah, it just seems like anytime you see me flirting with anyone -- even if they’re a stranger -- it sets you off.” George tutted, gliding closer to Clay. 

He moved his eyes again, but his field of vision was narrowing until all he could see was George. “Don't flatter yourself, you do it to annoy me.” 

“Do I? I think you just took my rebound comment a little too serious, you even chased off my hookup.” For the first time in weeks, George felt like he leverage over Clay. It was like the day Clay had moved in, he was pinned under George's thumb. 

George was close, Clay swore he could feel George's body heat even through his hoodie. He wasn't touching him but Clay swore he could feel his hands all over his body, his words wrapping around him like a glove -- suffocating him. 

“You know,” George started, breathily, “you could have just asked.” 

Clay sucked in a sharp breath, his heart beating against his chest. “I shouldn't have to ask,” 

He didn't know what he was saying but he couldn't blame it on the alcohol, the warmth he felt in the pit of his stomach had been notably different from the warmth he had been feeling from the few drinks he had. He still felt drunk but this time it wasn't from alcohol; he was drunk off George. “I told you already, George'' it was barely a whisper, he leaned forward, toeing the line. As always, it was George who crossed it -- his lips crashing against Clays. 

God, they were both fucked. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before the regular housekeeping, [this](https://archiveofourown.org/users/simpbot/pseuds/simpbot) the link to the account for one of my betas who helps me out :) They have some fics of their own posted too!!  
> \----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
> I have a twitter for updates: [Here.](https://twitter.com/Daismika)
> 
> And I also have another DNF fic, its a royalty/ enemies to lovers AU: [Here.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27607898/chapters/67632374)
> 
> ALSO also, I've cross-posted these fics on [Wattpad](https://www.wattpad.com/user/Daismika) if anyone is more comfortable on Wattpad/ wants to support the fic there


End file.
